Strange Love
by Sora Blade707
Summary: Arthur picked the movie, Ivan went with the cliche photo booth, and Alfred proves that he is an awesome singer when he's serious. Russia x America x England, fluff, important PPB note inside
1. The Movie

**Title:** Strange Love (1/3)  
**Series:** Hetalia  
**Rating:** T  
**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the plot.  
**Warnings:** HOLY CRAP THREESOME. Also, it contains boy love, language, and usage of human names.  
**Pairings:** Russia x America x England (yes, it's a threesome damn it)  
**Summary: **Arthur chooses the movie, Ivan forces them to use the very cliché photo booth, and Alfred is stuck trying to prove that he can seriously sing.

**A/N:** Well, for one, I had promised to make this threesome fic. Secondly, I wanted to write more Ivan. Finally, I also wanted to impart some very important info regarding _Project Pandora's Box_.

Please read this journal carefully: ryuuto . deviantart . com / journal / 26186489 /

…So…yeah. That's it. This is my "time for brain break" fic. :)

*

_Arthur fails at picking romantic movies._ Alfred thought during the first scene of the movie the three nations were watching. Still, he had to give the blond Briton the benefit of the doubt, since it was Alfred's brilliant idea to go to the movies for their first date. Ivan had seemed fine with the idea, and Arthur had decided to be the one to pick out the movie. The blond Briton had even picked their seats, so they were sitting as high as they could.

That was never happening again. Hell, the younger nation was just about to fall asleep the movie was so boring! Alfred sighed softly and rested his head against the wall. He heard Ivan stifle a chuckle while Arthur rolled his eyes. It wasn't the American's fault the actors sucked! That was all on the director of the damn movie.

Halfway through the movie and they finally got to the kissing scene. Alfred just wanted to rot in a hole. He hated both characters (and actors), but that scene was so obviously fake it made the young nation's skin crawl. Who the hell _wrote_ this crap? He sighed again, wishing he could rip his eyes out. Unfortunately, Ivan and Arthur would hurt him if he did that. They apparently loved his eyes too much.

Alfred must have seriously fallen asleep after the kissy scene. He couldn't remember falling asleep. In fact, all the young nation _could_ remember was Arthur poking (more like _jabbing_) him in the ribs and his head resting against Ivan's shoulder. Alfred sat up and yawned.

"What'd I miss, other than a horrible movie?" the blond American asked sleepily. He rubbed his eyes and missed the amused smiles of his two partners. Another yawn forced its way out of Alfred's mouth.

"You missed nothing, except that we are not letting Arthur pick the movie next time," Ivan replied, reaching over and ruffling the blond Briton's hair. Arthur rolled his eyes and shrugged.

"What? The summary sounded all right," the Englishman retorted as the three stood up. Alfred stretched out his limbs. Falling asleep in a movie chair was not something one would call comfortable.

"How about the preview?" Alfred inquired as they started their descent from the top row. Arthur made a sound that sounded suspiciously like "ehhh." The blond American shook his head, a small smile on his face. "Artie, you fail at picking good movies."

"Oh, like you could do better? And don't _call_ me that!" the blond Briton said heatedly, a light blush on his cheeks. Ivan and Alfred chuckled as they each put an arm around Arthur's shoulders. The Englishman rolled his eyes, but he wrapped an arm around each of their waists.

"Well, _Artie_," Ivan stressed the name, causing said man to glare at him, "shall we call you a, what was that American term? A 'pimp?' Is that the correct term, Alfred?"

Arthur sputtered indignantly and Alfred laughed. The Russian just smiled innocently down at the slightly shorter nation.


	2. The Photobooth

**Title:** Strange Love (2/3)  
**Series:** Hetalia  
**Rating:** T  
**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the plot.  
**Warnings:** HOLY CRAP THREESOME. Also, it contains boy love, language, and usage of human names.  
**Pairings:** Russia x America x England (yes, it's a threesome damn it)  
**Summary: **Arthur chooses the movie, Ivan forces them to use the very cliché photo booth, and Alfred is stuck trying to prove that he can seriously sing.

**A/N:** Yay, chapter 2~! Now we get to the cliché photo booth! :laughs:

*

It was the Russian's fault. Seriously, it was all. His. Fucking. _Fault_. The idea was terribly cliché, at least in Alfred's honest opinion. Still, he had been out-voted. Arthur seemed to like the idea, albeit grudgingly, and it was Ivan's damn idea in the first place. The young nation had rolled his eyes, sighed, and just decided to go along with it. Now, he wasn't so sure about the idea.

"Ivan," the blond American began as he stared at the abomination in front of him, "How the hell are the three of us going to fit in there? It was made for two people only, I think."

Ivan smiled at him innocently, although that didn't fool his two partners. The American would be struck dead if he didn't think that the Russian had something up his sleeve. His assumption was proven correct when the silver-haired man gave his response.

"Why, Alfred, that is why the two of us go in, and then we just sit Arthur on our laps," he said innocently and with cheer. The blond Briton was not pleased with the idea, although Alfred found the proposal quite appealing. It would make up for being forced to go into the photo booth, at least for a little while.

"Now, why would _I_ be on your laps?" Arthur asked indignantly. The Russian and American glanced at each other. They thought that it was obvious, but apparently the Briton was either in denial or just wasn't getting it.

"Because you're lighter than the two of us. And I don't think you'd appreciate it all that much if Ivan or I were sitting on you," Alfred replied, his voice innocent. The Englishman shook his head and sighed, defeated. Score one for the American!

With the seating arrangements settled, Ivan cheerfully paid for the amount of photos they were going to get. Alfred slid in first, then the Russian, and finally Arthur managed to squeeze in there. When they got comfortable, the picture taking from Hell began.

At first, they were just cute and took normal pictures. All they did was smile, shift around a little, keeping a moderately sane appearance to them. Then, Alfred got bored and decided to spice things up a bit. Ivan must have gotten bored, too, and the two glanced at each other. A small, evil smile graced the Russian's lips. The blond American just grinned openly.

The next picture taken was one that had caught Arthur by surprise. Ivan and Alfred had kissed the blond Briton's cheeks just in time for the picture to be taken. It was a lovely picture of the three, and the bright red blush on Arthur's cheeks just added to the lovliness (at least, that was in Alfred and Ivan's opinion).

After that, Alfred was the victim. The silver-haired Russian had stolen his glasses and decided to wear them for the next picture. They had to admit that Ivan hadn't looked bad in them. Still, things got a little silly when Arthur decided to wear Texas next.

"You look like a schoolgirl," the American had commented, earning him a smack on the back of the head, which the camera caught. Ivan and Arthur still wouldn't give him back his glasses, however. Actually, the Russian had hidden them from Alfred.

"We rarely see you without your glasses, Alfred," Ivan stated innocently, and the young nation blurrily saw Arthur nod in agreement. The blond American pouted, which was also caught on camera.

"Sorry, I like seeing, thanks," Alfred retorted, almost sulkily (he would deny that, of course). His partners ignored the remark and they continued to make silly faces for the rest of the photos. Well, there was one exception.

They were down to their last photo and the younger nation was starting to get tired. Immediately after the second-to-last shot, Alfred tugged the blond Briton fully onto his lap, scooted as close to Ivan as he could, and placed Arthur on the other side of the American. The blond American then wrapped his arm around the Englishman's waist and practically forced him to lean against the taller nation. Finally, Alfred leaned against their Russian partner and closed his eyes sleepily.

That last photo had to be Alfred's personal favorite. He always smiled when he saw it, which depicted Arthur leaning against the younger nation, while the American leaned against Ivan. The blond Briton's smile had been soft and almost dreamlike. Alfred's had been peaceful and beautiful. The Russian's was the most genuine smile they had ever seen, and was also one filled with love and care.

Yes, that photo was definitely the favorite.

* * *

**A/N:** I've never been inside those weird little booths that automatically take pictures of you and someone else, therefore...if this fails...I'm very sorry. ._.


End file.
